L'Cie Basememt
by litlgaurdian
Summary: Vanille has been kidnapped. She is trapped and alone and cannot remember how she reached this awful place. But someone is coming for her and they will ensure that she will not survive to see the daylight again. Rated T just to be safe
1. Chapter 1: Trapped

(A/N) This is a fanfiction of FFXIII set long before Vanille and Fang woke up, but still while they were L'Cie. It is based off of a game I once played called Monster Basement. Recently out of boredom I went back to it and loved it just, and to make things even better there was a sequel! Unable to stop myself I wrote this. It won't be that long so it's good for everyone looking for a quick read. For the most part, I guess it's mainly me working on my writing style since it's not nearly as good as it could be. Just to be safe it's rated T for some violence, blood, and overall creepiness that might freak out a little kid. There also might end up being some swearing, but not that much and it's not that bad. I encourage everyone to play this game. It really was put together well, better than many of the mindless flash games I have played in _years_. I'm sure at least some of you will enjoy it too

Summary: Something has happened. What she cannot say. Vanille is trapped, Fang has dissapeared, she is completely and utterly alone, and someone (or is it something) is coming after her.

Copyright: All characters belong to square enix as a part of their Final fantasy series, specifically Final Fantasy XIII

The setting and scenario belong to Patrick Majewski, the creator of Monster Basement as well as Armor Games, who sponsored the game. For those wishing to play the game I am providing the url - . - Just as before I encourage everyone to play the original game. Of course there are a few edits added, but those are only because they are necessary to the story, everything else I have done my best to keep just like before. I thank him as well for giving me his permission to write this.

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L'Cie Basement

Chapter 1: Trapped

Consciousness was slow to creep up on the girl, almost as if it did not wish to come. Every breath was painful, almost to the point where she did not want to continue. Her body ached, every muscle sore. Even to do the simple act of opening her eyes was hard, but the world of her vision was dark and blurry. Above her a light flickered, barely visible, but it was there. But almost as though that spark of light reached her soul she found within her strength to let her eyes come to focus.

_What happened? _She could not help but think. Her mind, it could not remember what had happened to land her here. Only fragments of sound. A scream of pain. The sharp blade of an axe. The iron taste of blood in her mouth. But nothing was clear. What had happened? Why couldn't she remember? Where was Fang?

Though it stung she forced herself to stand on legs that threatened to collapse underneath her. They trembled like fallen leaves when the wind blew and it took a great deal of willpower to keep herself upright. That light in the ceiling, it was the only light the room could give. She could just barely see the bulbs behind the plastic that protected the small glass orbs, yet it flickered of and on as if made of flame. Vanille shivered at the cold air around her wishing it were actually fire to warm her.

_Where was she?_

The question burned in her mind as she took her eyes away from the ceiling for the first time. She was in some kind of room, one she knew she had never seen before, the walls and corners hidden in shadow as if they held some dark creatures that waited for her to come near.

On one nearby wall lay a door, and seeing no keyhole she pulled at its handle. Hope of freedom flared inside of her, but quick as a flash of lightning it vanished as the door did not budge. She stood no chance at moving it on her own, especially in this weakened state.

Beside the door against the wall lay a cage, locked as she could have expected. It was not large, but not small either, the top of it only reaching her waist. Enough to fit a decent sized animal at the least. Inside it something lay unmoving, its form covered by a heavy reddish colored blanked. Vanille shook the bars, hoping to wake whatever lay inside, but still it did not move. A second thought told her it was probably better this way. If it was encaged there was probably a reason.

Above the cage on the top of the wall she saw a ventilation shaft. Pushing herself to stand on the cage. The air that wafted through it was cold and carried the scent of blood. Shuddering, she burrowed her fingers into the slits and tried to pull the metal cover free, but just like the door there was nothing that moved it. _No use in that_, she told herself silently still trying to look on the positive side of everything as she always did. _I probably wouldn't fit in there anyway._

After the quick decision that the foul-scented vent would do her no good she sat back on the cage and continued her journey around the room. Against the wall near the cage rested a bookshelf. Its four shelves were hardly full, the bottommost one being completely empty and the one above it holding only a photo of a smiling couple that had the word "congratulations" written on it. Hardly useful.

The third shelf was the one that sparked her curiosity though. There was a golden circle in the middle of the base of the shelf. Inside it was a round indentation and two smaller ones on the outside of the circle.

The highest shelf, which she had to stretch to reach, was the only one that carried any books, even if they were a little cluttered and unorganized. There was a cookbook and one about different types of animals both real and mythical, a small one about mystical objects, and another that was the user's manual to a chainsaw. None of those she felt she should be interested in and she put them back as soon as seeing the front cover. But the one on the very edge of the shelf she felt like she should keep. On the front of the tattered book was the words "Journal ~ The Discovery of an Open Portal to a Cursed World." The journal was sealed shut with a heavy, gray padlock. What was this Cursed World it spoke of? And why did it need to be sealed away?

Next to the bookshelf close to the adjacent wall was a small table, the surface of it stained with blood. Some was dried from sitting there for many days; other places were still wet and fresh. Stuck in the table's surface dripping with blood was the blade of an axe, the long handle reaching both to the wall and ceiling as if it too were trying to escape the reek of blood. Swarming around it were these large bugs, each probably the size of a coin, if not more.

Vanille took a step towards the axe, almost as if she were going to take it, but scenting her warm flesh the bugs came at her, biting painfully at her arms and anywhere they could reach. Quickly she stepped back, stumbling almost into the cage in her weakness. "Why am I not surprised?" She asked herself out loud, almost pleased just to hear her own voice in this empty place. "Dumb things must be Vampire flies. Better stay away from them." Behind the insect infested table was the light switch that went to the flickering light above her. She couldn't think of any reason why she'd want to turn off the lights here, it was plenty dark enough, but even if she wanted to those flies would keep her away. Directly next to the light switch was a small hallway. From where she leaned against the cage she could even see the stairs and the bottom corner of a door, but she decided to stay in this room, at least until she could figure out more about her new prison.

She put her back to the empty bookcase. Stretched across the room was a long table. Most of it was covered with these jars of these strange creatures; some filled with bubbling red liquid that. Some of them she recognized as pieces of animals she had seen in the plains and mountains outside of her home, others were so badly mutated or partially dissolved she could not tell what they were, nor did she want to. In the jumble of jars stood what looked like a golden lamp stand which she took. At the very least she could trade it for something when she finally got back home. If she ever got back home.

On the other side of the table was a computer and an old red phone, one like the kind no one used before with chords attaching it to the wall and such. The computer's screen was black and there seemed to be no way to turn it on. But she had no interest in it anyway, only for the phone, praying she could use it to find help. Without a second thought she picked it up and franticly pushed the buttons that would lead her to Fang's phone. Her friend rarely carried it with her, but there was always that chance. All that met her was silence until she put it back on the hook.

"Figures," She muttered as she looked under the table. There was a trash can down there. Inside were two empty containers of what was probably gas. The cans alone she couldn't see a use for. Maybe if they were full she could start a controlled fire of some kind? She shook her head, there was no use searching for solutions she didn't have. Further down in the bin she found a purple and green spray can, but it was empty as well. Unlike the gas cans she took this. If she could just find something to fill it with it could still be useful. Lastly she found a crumpled scrap of paper. When she picked it up and smoothed out the wrinkles she felt a smile pull at her lips since the first time she woke up in this dreadful place. It said "Call Salvation"

Her mind flashed back to when she was free, when it was just her and Fang running across the untamed moors of their homeland, searching for their purpose. She had almost wanted to give up, but Fang would not. She was brave, she was strong, she was determined, she was a hundred times the woman Vanille would ever be and she was lucky to even say she looked up to her. She had said they would push though and they'd be alright. She said they'd get through this and they'd find their salvation. And every word she said Vanille believed.

With the memory over and the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes Vanille's mind brought her back to reality. "I will find you." She promised Fang through the scrap, "I'll find you, and we'll finish this together. We'll find our salvation together, just like we promised." She put the little scrap next to the journal along with the lamp stand and spray can. She didn't see a purpose for it, yet she could not part with it.

With a sigh she moved on to the part of the desk under the phone. There were three drawers there. The first slid open without a problem, but there was only a bunch of paperwork. Hunting licenses, little advertisements of fertilizing companies, little notes her captor must have made about growing seasons of plants. Whoever was her kidnapper he was probably some sort of farmer.

The second drawer hesitated a little, but with a little grunt and a yank it opened and a yellow piece of paper flew out. She picked it up. In it's middle was nothing more than a silhouette of a man giving a thumbs up to whoever was reading it. Above the shadow was the words "Handy Man The best service in town." Under the picture was a phone number. Instinctively Vanille reached for the phone, but remembering the silence that came when she tried to call Fang she just shook her head and pocketed it. Maybe if she learned to repair the phone then it'd be useful.

The third and bottom drawer would not open at all. Frustrated she pulled and tugged a little, but nothing happened. It took her a moment of fighting with it to realize there was actually a keyhole for that one. Whatever was in there was probably important.

With the desk thoroughly examined she went to the wall behind it. There was nothing entirely special about it. Just two pictures, one of a farmer and his pitchfork and another of two smiling people. At first she thought it was another congratulations picture, but the two here looked almost alike, as if they were kin. Probably just a brother and his sister.

The wall beside the table was the one with the jammed door and the cage, so she saw no need to try to open the door again. Instead she turned to the opposite wall, the one with the small hallway and headed up the stairs.

On one side of the hallway hung these menacing looking black meat hooks, some of the meat still clinging to them. Maybe the one who put her here was a hunter as well as a farmer. She didn't like killing, but Fang did it sometimes when they needed food and couldn't find it in the earth.

On the opposite wall she leaned on with one hand as she walked were a couple posters. The first showed someone's name, though something was not quite right about it, and the word "Godlimations" and some symbol beside it. She had no idea what this could mean, but her fingers brushed over something that had been stuck under one of the corners.

The other displayed what she thought was some kind of coat of arms with a shield, and the image of a castle on its face. Perhaps they weren't a farmer or hunter at all, but some kind of defender or soldier.

For that thought Vanille flicked herself in the forehead. That was a silly idea. Everything she had seen so far led to either hunter or farmer. Mind that some of the books were a little weird, but everyone can have a pastime right? But there were all those notes on plants and things and then the picture on the wall that might have been of the farmer himself. And now she finds these meat hooks on the walls. But seeing them made her mind question.

_If he is a hunter, then what is his prey?_

That thought forced fear to stab through her and she scrambled up the next few steps to the door. It was cold as ice, made of metal instead of wood, and she saw no keyhole she could try to fiddle with. From the other side of the door she could hear footsteps passing back and forth across a wooden floor and the rhythm-less sound of a door beating against its wall battered by the wind. At first Vanille thought to bang on the door to see of someone could help her, but then thought maybe whoever was on the other side was waiting for her to wake up. And if she banged on the door he'd know she was awake and come for her. She'd have to find something else to help her.

At first all she saw was a mail slot in the door, but even that would give her no help. Nailed to the top of the door was a piece of paper, this one seemingly meant to speak to her. Fear coursed through her as she read what it said:

If you wish for your life to end faster

I have provided an escape manual

My family will be sure to know tonight's feast

Will be served earlier than expected

~Host

Her green eyes flicked back and forth between the note and the meat hooks, the dreadful answer to her question finally answered. Her captor _was_ some kind of hunter, but he did not hunt the beasts of the fields or woods. He hunted mankind and right now the one they were hunting was her.

"No . . ." The words escaped her as all the strength she had managed to gather since waking left her. She leaned her back against the cold of the door and slid down it until she was sitting. "I . . . I don't want to die . . . Fang . . . where?" She didn't want that last question answered. It was far to easy to imagine her friend being the one who's flesh was still hanging on those hooks, who's scent flowed through the vents, and who's blood covered the table summoning the vampire flies. "You can't be gone Fang."

Just as she whispered the words the footsteps from outside stopped for only a moment and came towards the door. She froze at the sound of them, not even daring to breath. But the door did not open and her hunter did not come then. The steps walked away and only then did her breath come in a great sigh of relief, only for her to realize her celebration had come far too soon.

"Dad!" The voice of the one who approached the door sounded from somewhere in the room beyond her prison, "Call uncle!"

"What? Why?" The boy was answered by what was probably his father.

"He didn't finish his job properly. That new one he brought in, it's still alive."

"Damn it," The father cursed, "I've told him to just chop the thing's heads off, but does he listen to me? Always gotta play with his food." He sighed, "I'll call him. Get your sister to open the door since that's the only place in this god forsaken house where the signal works."

Vanille didn't dare stay near that door then. There had to be something else, some other way out. She couldn't just dash out of there and into these wolves that were waiting on her. They wanted her dead, that much she knew, but what else was there she didn't know.

She kept backing away from that door, hoping to reach the wooden one on the other side of the room, maybe find a way to force it open. But just as she reached it the room echoed with the sound of the phone's ringing. With a prayer of thanks Vanille scrambled to it, tripping on the way so she almost fell on the receiver.

"Thank god you called!" She said frantically when she picked it up, her words spilling out of her faster than she was sure even she was capable of speaking "I need help. I don't know where I am or what's going on or where-"

"So you are alive then." The rough, deep voice of what had to be the boy's uncle sounded through the phone, cutting off her words instantly. With a scream she dropped the phone and backed away, fear causing her to tremble. But even with the distance between her and the voice she could still hear it clearly, as though nothing would chase it away. "So sorry about that. But don't worry, I'll be there to fix that _very _soon."

All she could hear as she curled into a ball beside the cage in trembling fear was the sound of his endless laughter, as though he knew there was no way she was going to be getting out, no way she could escape him, and no way she would live to see tomorrow or Fang.

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(A/N) ok first chapter done. Mainly just setting the stage and a little introduction to the plot. For any of you actually playing the game the url for that walkthrough doesn't work, like at all. It just takes you to an error page. It used to work a long time ago when I first played the game, but apparently that got deleted or changed with Armor Games did some spring cleaning or something. The only actual 'Walkthrough' I know of (if you can even bother to call it that) is this little fanfic. But then there might be one on the main Godlimations website.


	2. Chapter 2: Cursed World

(A/N) Thanks to everyone who read the first part and all. I have to say that there were 2 times where I wrote urls on the last chapter, one in the a/n section, the other actually in the fanfiction story as part of the note left for vanille. Didn't realize url's got censored out. Oh well, back to the story . . .

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L'Cie Basement

Chapter 2: Cursed World

Vanille stayed where she was, cowering in fear, even after he had hung up. Somehow, even if she couldn't explain it, the air seemed colder. She could not hear anything around her, the laughter of her captor still echoed in her mind, loudly and clearly enough that it threatened to drive her to madness.

_Someone wants me dead!_

Realization like that is always hard for anyone, but for her it was paralyzing. There was always other kids who would pick on her for her size and such, but no one has ever actually _tried_ to kill her before. And now she was here, alone, with some farmer after her head.

Oh, how she wished Fang were here. From where she sat against the wall she tucked her knees under her chin wrapping her arms around her legs as if it would give her some kind of comfort. It offered nothing. She would know what to do, she always did. She was the one who knew how to fight, to defend not only herself, but her friends as well. She probably wouldn't have let that nasty little phone call scare her, probably would have shouted some smart, sarcastic thing back to him. She never would have been intimidated. And now, while she was curled on the floor counting down seconds trying to savor each one until she met her end, Fang would have been searching for a way out.

"Well," She thought out loud trying to force some sort of confidence in her voice. "there's got to be a way out of here." She didn't know why she said it out loud except for the fact that she wanted to hear her own voice, hear how it didn't shake. If she could control something like her own body then maybe she could manage a way out of here. Fang would be able to find a way, why couldn't she?

She went back to her pile of things, they were all she had. So far all she had was two scraps of paper, an empty spray can, and a lampstand. Not much to go off of. How was this junk supposed to help her? None of it was related to each other and it wasn't going to open a metal door. What about that other one though, the wooden one?

Vanille ran her hand across the splintery wood. It was rough to the surface and when she withdrew her hand a couple thin strands clung to the lines in her hands. The entire surface looked old and weak, as if it had endured for year after year of beasts clawing at it. As the thought came to her head she began to notice that some of the lines that crossed over its surface actually were parallel as though a monster had clawed it. A shudder passed through her body at that thought. She couldn't be thinking about unexplained monsters right now. She needed to be thinking of ways to get this door open. It was her best bet of seeing freedom.

Just like before she pulled at the handle and nothing happened. She beat at it with closed fists until they stung and she forced herself to stop and rub them. As a last resort she took a few steps back and ran at her fastest towards it. At the last moment she twisted letting her shoulder hit hard into the door and ducking her head incase there was a stairway on the other side. She didn't need anything broken or sprained right now. But all she got for her efforts was a sore shoulder. The door hadn't even moved.

"Come on, stupid thing" She told it, "Open up already. What do I have to do? Chop you down?" It was then that she realized that she had answered her own question. On the table was that axe, still sticking out of the table waiting to be taken. If it wasn't for those annoying flies she would have it now and would be banging away at the door to her freedom. But just like before when she came too near the flies bit hard on her warm skin and she pulled away.

"Annoying little bugs," She whispered rubbing at the little red mark on her arm, "Why do you have to like this place?" She thought about making a run for it, just like she had done with the door, but figured it would hurt too much. And without any of the potions she and Fang normally carried around pain would be one of the last things she needed. But the axe was her only way of getting through that door so she had to try.

She edged around the flies, almost as if looking for an opening before lunging. Precious seconds passed as she watched the little bugs swarm in front of her, wishing there was some way she could get rid of them. But since she could not this was her only option. She charged into the swarm, her eyes shut tight and her face screwed up as pain nipped at every part of her body that was bare. Her hands didn't even reach the handle before the pain became too great and she pulled back into the small hallway with a squeak of pain.

She sat on the cold stone of the stairway rubbing at the red marks on her arms and legs wincing at the sting that came every now and then when she touched them.

_Why does this have to be so difficult?_ She moaned to herself. What, did her captor put the axe and the flies there to tease her?

With a sigh she pushed herself to her feet, her hand resting on the edge of one of the posters as she did. Under the surface she felt that strange bump she felt before. Something was definitely under there. Without a second thought she pulled at the bottom of the poster until the tape that held it in place broke and the paper ripped. For a moment she almost felt bad and felt like apologizing, but then decided she didn't care. This person was trying to kill her, she really shouldn't care much for their personal property. Besides, it was worth it for what she found:

A green key.

Hope flared inside her again as she picked up the little metal key. It was cold to the touch, like everything else, and when she picked it up a shudder passed from her fingertips to her spine. She had found something that could let her out, but what did it go to? The door to the boy and his father had no keyhole. The wooden door had none as well. All that had keyholes were that cage, the file cabinet, and that strange book about the Cursed World.

She first tried the file cabinet, but it didn't fit at all. She looked at the cage, but remembered what she had thought before. Whatever it was was probably there for a reason. Bothering with it could be dangerous for her. Seeing uselessness in it she finally tried the book. This time the lock opened without a problem. She found a place to sit beside the cage again and opened it. The book wasn't long, so she figured she could read all of it without problem. Any introduction wasn't there, the journal began on the first page.

Surviving the War

So far I have been sheltered during the war. I was willing to fight for my people, for my home, but I was not a fighter. There was nothing I could do. My brother and his family have his place and it is much better than mine being that mine fell apart in the last raid. Reliving that battle I remind myself just how thankful I am to be alive. My well protected basement will keep me breathing until this massacre is over. It's so quiet and cool here it's almost like there's nothing to fear.

Portal discovery

I have stumbled upon the discovery of a lifetime. Upon this never ending battle we face on the surface an even darker world co-exists beneath us. A world that is wild and untamed. Where beasts can stand as tall as mountains or as small as blades of grass. And the people that live there, the ones who call this new world Grand Pulse, live off of violence, in constant war with the dangerous world around them. Where the portal leads to, cannot be explained in words, not in a diary as small as this. But rather the feeling . . . the atmosphere that draws my attention. I know that Grand Pulse is strange and foreign and probably dangerous, but I find myself going back again and again, bringing my brother and his family as I do. His wife doesn't share my enthusiasm

Creatures

Grand Pulse kept me safer from the war than my brother's basement did. That, and it offered the freedom of the outside world. But there were so many creatures that lived there, beasts that those of us on Cocoon never bothered to care about. All they worried about on the surface was the war. At first I was curious about these creatures that inhabited Grand Pulse. I wanted to study them. But the locals, people who lived in extremely primitive villages, had told me not to. They said the beasts were meant to be hunted, a gift from the Fal'Cie to keep them alive, not studied. I didn't listen to them and now I can only wish I had.

Monster

During the first of my studies I found a small beast, very young and seemingly very weak. At first I thought it was abandoned by it's mother, lost to the world, but when I came close it lashed out with many rows of sharp teeth. It bit once, hard on my hand, then fled. Pain seared my limb and I went to the closest village, a pretty little place called Oerba, and asked them for help. When I described the little thing that bit me they backed away and their leader told me to leave at once. Only a young girl had thought to help me, but her friend held her back. I was on my own.

Time passed and whatever disease, or possibly venom, that the creature infected me with was only getting worse. Normal food didn't satisfy me any more. I had to have flesh, warm and raw, and nothing else would do. But what I hungered for most, what satisfied me the most, what consumed my being the most, was the beasts that were the greatest enemy to my homeland above: Pulse L'Cie. I am left only wanting to hunt them and then when that is done end myself.

The Mud Vile

For the record there is no reasoning for a creature I have started calling "The Mud Vile." This creature poses hostility to anyone or anything that crosses its path. The Mud Vile lives in the soil and compliments the dirt to its natural habitat. It sleeps eighty-five percent of the day, but one should fear when it wakes up. The beast seems to enjoy the darkness, most often making its home under the shelter of overhanging rocks or the shadows of trees and something as simple as shining a flashlight on it or lighting a fire nearby will wake it.

The Pulse L'Cie

My greatest challenge and my greatest enemy. From a distance they seem like normal people, set aside only because of a tattoo, but they are not. The Pulse Fal'Cie has blessed them with magic and great strength making them very hard to take down, especially when there is more than one of them attacking at once. So far I have been able to kill them off one by one, separating them from their groups and destroying them before they have a chance to call for help. So far that's been working, but sometimes I bring them back alive. I know there's no way out of my brother's basement. It's more fun if I do it this way. Besides, Pulse L'Cie are enemies to coccon and deserve to be eliminated. And second, they were just normal people before they were given their focus. If those normal people had done something before I was infected they wouldn't be hunted to begin with.

Revenge

I've spotted two L'Cie headed north away from the village of Oerba. I recognize them and the sight of them boils my blood. The younger of the two is the one who almost helped me when I was first infected. The taller, darker haired one is the one who held her back. These two girls I would tear apart. Especially the big one. I'd make sure she suffered.

Everything worked well, but not exactly as I planned. Not too long after seeing me the older L'Cie told her friend to make a run for it. It was easy to tell the two had been close even before I showed up. She hesitated, but did as she was told and ran, and I gave chase. The older one fought, trying to hold me back, but I am the hunter of L'Cie and she was no match. I could feel her breaking under my fists with each strike. She even called out for help once, and that brought back the little girl. When she came back I went for her, careful to keep the bigger one alive until I ripped the heart out of her friend. I didn't reach her before the older one came from behind. Again we fought and again I won. When she finally passed out it was far too easy for me to bring down the child. She obviously hadn't been fighting long being only a kid and all. I brought both back home. I plan on getting to work on the older one the second I do. The little girl can wait until after I run a few errands in the upper world. Afterwards her friend can watch from the underworld as I . . .

The rest of the pages were missing, only bits and pieces of torn page still attached to the spine. Against the back cover a golden key was taped, which Vanille took and put with the rest of the things she had gathered. But she could hardly move, her limbs frozen with astonishment.

She remembered this man.

He was just a stranger, some man from Coccon. That alone was strange enough, but they were enemies to Grand Pulse. That alone meant he should be killed on sight. They were, after all, the reason for the war. But he had only wanted to study and even though Oerba Yun Kefun, Fang's uncle and leader of Oerba at the time, had warned him that the dangers of Pulse were beyond him, he still wanted to stay. Kefun had let him. Then when he had come back saying he was bitten everyone backed away. Vanille hadn't understood why though, but she was the village healer's apprentice so she should help him. Fang had told her to stay away. Now she knew why. What if his illness had spread to her? But that was months ago. She couldn't do anything to change it now.

She looked at the last entry in the book. He said her friend was watching her from the underworld. Could Fang really be dead?

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(A/N) Sorry it took so long to update. Remember to review


	3. Chapter 3: Into the Depths

(A/N) Sorry it took so long to come back to. Life and all. It has this annoying way of keeping me from writing. Not like too many people are reading anyway . . . Thanks to everybody that is. Really.

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Chapter 3:

Into the Depths

Again and again Vanille read the last entry, her mind unable to read what it had seen time and time again. Fang was watching from the underworld. Fang was dead. Fang had protected her against this monster, fought him to her last breath. And now, now she was gone, never to be seen or heard from again. She was in the underworld now and only because she had tried to protect the kid l'cie that followed her. Not like it mattered. There was no way out of this hell hole anyway. Fang's death would be in vain.

_NO!_

That took things to far. Rage burned through her, strengthening her limbs like seam fueled an engine. Even the soreness in her shoulder that came from raming it into that wooden door seemed to fade away in light of this fury. Consumed by it she threw the book as far away from her as she could. It struck hard against the far wall, between the two pictures, and fell to the floor with a muffled thump. Whether Fang was dead or not Vanille would not let it be in vain. Fang would _not_ die for nothing. She _would_ find a way out of this prison.

Doing that though, was a lot harder said than done. This place really was some kind of fortress of a basement. Every passage sealed, every option closed. The monster that held her here had been doing this for who knows how long. He was ready for just about anything she could try. But there had to be something she could do. Some trick that the countless l'cie that had been imprisoned here before failed to try. And she would be the one to do it, if only she could find it.

She went back to fiddling with the door, pushing on the door, pulling on the handle, trying to find things to stick between the door and the frame. But nothing worked. She shook her head disappointed. The only way she was getting through that door was with the axe on the bloodied table. But she wasn't about to fight with those flies again. Her arms were still sore and stinging from the last time. She wasn't sure if she could take it again. If ever she found a way to be rid of them then she knew where she would be going next. Maybe wherever that door led had a way outside somehow. Considering what she had that door was her greatest hope.

She went back to the bookshelf and flipped through every book. The journal that told of the monster's descent to madness had carried a key in the back of it. Maybe she could find another if she looked hard enough. But every one was empty. Angry at the empty find she tossed a book carelessly at the shelf, but she missed and the book landed next to the case. Grumbling she went to pick it up wondering to herself why she bothered but glad that she did at the same time.

There, leaning against the side of the bookshelf was this strange little golden figure. Just looking at is she couldn't tell what it was. It almost looked like some sort of tool, but couldn't think of what it could fix. The little object was plated with gold and was no thicker than a reed. The thin metal was completely straight, putting even the best made arrows to shame, with the exception of a single right angle bend. A bit of wiring stuck out on one end but that was all that she could see of it's insides. Curious more than anything she took the little tool and put it with the rest of her findings.

Two scraps of trash paper, an empty spray can, a lamp stand and a little golden cylinder. So, basically she had a little pile of junk and a key to get her out of there. Instinctively she looked to the steel door at the top of the stairway. That was probably going to be her way out, but there was no keyhole. Only the . . . mail slot.

This time her body moved faster than her mind had thought of what to do. She reached for the old phone and dialed the number on the yellow scrap labeled "Handy man." She had remembered how the phone met no answer before when she had tried to contact fang and hadn't thought about using it should the attempt meet the same end. But since then her captor had been able to talk to her. A shiver ran through her body at the thought of that terrible laugh. But this, this had to go through.

She was met with ring after ring, more progress than she had on her last try. She stood, leaning against the desk hardly daring to breath. But she wasn't greeted by a cheerful voice, or even a happy voice. This strangely distorted deep voice spoke, not even giving her time to do so much as form a thought, much less a sentence.

"Handy man on the way." It said and then the line went dead. The Handy Man had hung up.

"UGH!" she slammed the phone back on the receiver, actually enjoying the sound of it clanking as she did. "What do you _want _from me?" Anger, fear, and disappointment boiled and she let herself fall on the desk, her arms spread across the surface. Her hand thumped against one of the bubbling glass jars and a small drop of the red liquid dropped on her hand. Pain seared through her and she let out a horrible scream as she jumped back holding her hand. "How the . . .?"

For the first time she took a closer look at the jar she had bumped. Inside the jar was what looked almost like a tiny, disfigured person. The liquid had burned through most of the figure leaving only the skeleton and pieces of flesh. The tiny person seemed to have tried to get away, it's arm was locked reaching above its head, the wilted flesh hung off it's fingers where they were frozen just above the top of the jar. She didn't know what this stuff was, but she didn't need to to know anything it touched would be dead.

That was when her second brilliant idea came to her. What if she had somehow found a way to get this foul stuff to those vampire flies? Kill them all in one fell swoop and leave her free to do as she needed with the axe to find her freedom.

But then she stopped the thought and looked at the flies buzzing around the scent of blood. That wasn't a thought that was like her at all. Sure she was afraid and all, but Vanille had never been one to resort to killing, even the tiniest little creature, ever. Yes she would lie all to easily, and run from every trouble, but killing was never an option in her mind. It almost surprised her how easily the thought came to her. Might have even scared her a bit.

"What's this place doing to me?" She moaned to herself looking up at the light that still flickered dimly at the ceiling as if it could give her some answer. But the light that came from the ceiling was no god or deity, it would offer no help and she was foolish to expect any.

Her thoughts ceased the moment she heard a sound above her. Someone was knocking on the door of the house on the floor above her. The boy who had called to his father had stopped pacing. Vanille's gaze snapped to the steel door, her heart frozen. Had he finally gotten tired of waiting? Or had his uncle, her hunter, returned to finish the job he started. Vanille grew tense, her limbs almost rigid and solid. Her breath became short and shallow and her heartbeat began to pound in her ears as the boy answered the door.

"Who the hell are you?" The boy asked the stranger outside.

"Handyman," The newcomer answered in the same strange voice she had heard before. The man she had called, he was there. Perhaps he could save her. As silent as stalking an animal Vanille crept up the stairs, her steps becoming more cautious as she climbed, until she reached the steel door and crouched beside it.

"Handyman?" The boy questioned, "I didn't call for anything. What the hell are you selling? Don't you know how late it is?"

"There was a call. I came."

"Let it go kid." The voice of the boy's father interjected. "Never mind the runt. Just a tad touchy since he hadn't had 'is dinner yet. What is it you got for us?" There was silence for a moment, then a rustle of paper. "Now I'll make sure this gets to the right hands. Thank yeh for stoppin in an' all." Vanille's heart sank as her would be rescuer grunted his approval and left. The door continued it's rhythm-less banging against it's frame.

"What was that all about?" The boy demanded after a few moments.

"It's just your uncle's nonsense. Let him just play his dumb-ass games and get 'em over with. Wench'll die one way or another." The voice grew louder as it approached her door. He was coming for her! Involuntarily she let out a small whimper as he got within arms reach of the only thing separating the two of them.

"Wait." The boy called and his father stopped for only a moment. The mail slot, only accessible on the side of the door Vanille wasn't on, lifted and stayed that way. Through it Vanille could see a small baron room. The floor was rough, made of dark wood and scraped away by what looked like many claw marks. Hunting dogs perhaps? Or just another result of the madness in this family. On the far wall she could see a small tv and above it some pictures, but it was impossible to tell who they were or anything like that. For a while everything was still and quiet. She just looked out this little hole wondering what it would be like to be on the other side, free again.

The boy ended all that with a monstrous roar, enough to startle young Vanille into screaming, falling backwards over the first few steps, bruising her already sore shoulder, as she tumbled. Her pain was met only with the boy's laughter.

"Stupid l'cie," He laughed. Somehow this laughter Vanille found much easier to handle over his uncle's, "so easy to mess with." A moment later an envelope fell through the mail slot.

Vanille grumbled angrily to herself as she rotated her shoulder around in the socket to make sure it wasn't damaged. Relieved to find it was still alright she sat at the top stair as the boy continued his pacing and she opened the envelope. There, peeking out at the top, was a screwdriver with an oddly crafted head made to look like a human eyeball.

"now why would anyone make something look like this?" She said to herself almost solely for the pleasure of hearing her own voice again. The boy beat on the metal of the door, yelling profanities about her being quiet. Vanille answered by hurrying down the stairs and sitting on the desk as she thought more about how she was going to get rid of those pesky vampire flies.

She started simple, picking up the jar. But even the jar was hot to the touch and she nearly dropped it before finally putting it back down. There was no way she was going to carry it by hand to the little buzzing demons. Then the miracle of the right answer came to her, though she knew not how. She would have to hand it to that Lady Luck Fang always talked about. She was such a sweet lady.

With the idea Lady Luck had given her she took the empty spray can she had found in the trash bin and filled it with the vile red liquid. With only a few sprays the flies died instantly, littering the ground with their tiny little bodies. Vanille stepped carefully around their remains and pulled the axe from the table, staggering a bit from the weight of it.

The blade was beyond disgusting, the whole of it completely drenched with the stain of blood to the point where she had to search to find the smallest specks of gray. She wondered how many of inhabitants of Gran Pulse, l'cie or not, met their end at the blade of the weapon she held.

None of that mattered now. She faced the wooden door and threw her entire being into swinging the blade as deep into the wood as possible. The first strike yielded barely a scratch on the surface. The second brought a fracture in the plain wood. A third a fourth and a fifth strike stretched the crack, forcing it to reach for the edges of the door. After what seemed like forever the door finally gave way and broke in two pieces.

"Finally," She whispered running the back of her hand along her forehead. Her shoulder burned with the effort of swinging the axe. But she held it in front of her as she pulled the door the rest of the way open. She saw the beginning of a small set of stairs but no further. Her own shadow fell only on the shadows of the room. She could see nothing but a few outlines of objects in the room, but still she had decided to step down. With each step she hesitated, listening, waiting, unsure of what to think or do.

"Hello?" She finally called, taking another slow, fearful step. The walls of this second basement absorbed the sound of her voice as she spoke. She wasn't sure why she had called, but she did. "Is anyone else in here?" Much to her surprise she was met by a moan, long and low and pitiful. At first Vanille thought perhaps she was making a mistake and called out again and was answered by the same moan.

She was not alone in here.

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(A/N) Much much longer than I had meant . . . ah well. Hope you're having fun so far. Please do get around to reviewing.


	4. Chapter 4: Not Alone Anymore

(A/N) What did I say about reviews right? Months between updates with chapters 2 and 3. You all review and chapter 4's up in less than a week. Reviews work! Whaddaya know! And you know, it only took 4 new reviews to kick my butt into gear . . .

Oh, I've been reading and stuff to try and help with my style a little. Let me know if there's a difference. Good or bad.

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Chapter 4:

Not alone anymore

Vanille backed up a step at the sound, the situation itself putting her in a distrustful mood. If someone else was here then what did that mean? Were they here to hurt her as well, or were they trapped and afraid just as she was? Or even better, could it be . . .

"Fang?" Vanille called to the voice praying that it would be her dear friend's familiar voice that answered. "Fang, is that you?" The only sound that came from the darkness was the same deep groaning. "It's me, Vanille. I was so worried I thought-" Her words were cut short as she stumbled forward, slipping on something she could not see. A brief flash of disgust shot threw her as her arm landed in a soft pile of reeking mud and soil as she tried to catch herself. It was just too dark for her to do anything in here just yet so to help her she climbed back up the small stairway back to the familiar room of torment to think.

"Fang _has_ to be down there," She thought out loud wondering if what she said was true, "The book said the hunter had killed her, but maybe I just read it wrong. But he did do _something_ to her, if only I knew what." She sat with her back to the cage and leaned the back of her head against the bars. The metal was cold as ice against the bare skin of her shoulders. Normally she would have jumped away from it, but at this point she didn't care. A little cold wouldn't kill her, not like her hunter. "Well, if it is Fang then she's hurt, Bad too. This time _I_ get to be the one to save _her_."

_But how?_

She stood again, walking to the open doorway to look down inside. There was still nothing more than she could see, only a small lit rectangle where light from the upper room streamed in through the door. Most of that though, was blocked out by a silhouette of her shadow. "Don't worry Fang," She whispered to the dark, "I'm going to help you. We'll get out of this together. And then, then we'll complete our focus and be free. You'll see. Everything will be just the way it should be." It almost felt good hearing her own words as the earthen walls absorbed them. She could almost believe them for a moment, but only for that moment. There was still a long, long way to go through this labyrinth of a puzzle. But Fang didn't say anything from where she lay, weak and broken. She only moaned again, the sound of it almost so low it couldn't have been right.

"Ok, light, light light," She dug through the trash bin and file cabinets looking for a candle or some matches. Something she could burn to give her the luminosity she desperately needed. She thought of twisting some papers to burn, make her own candle, but then thought the better of it. Even though she was blessed with L'cie magic, she wasn't the best at it. She enjoyed white magic, found peace in watching those around her smile and knowing that she had helped them. But black magic, that only brought pain and destruction. She hated it and almost refused to practice it. Fang wasn't best at it either, but she at least tried. But here, locked in this hellhole, she could just imagine a simple fire spell going wrong, consuming the floor and creeping towards her hungrily. There wouldn't be any escape for her then.

She came to the bottom drawer of the file cabinet and pulled on it, just like before. Again, she managed to make the same mistake of not even realizing there was a keyhole there. Stupid things. Where was she supposed to get a . . . Oh yeah, she had one. A simple golden key she had found in the back of the Journal. She wasn't sure why her hunter would hide a file cabinet key in a book, but then again the man wasn't entirely sane to begin with now was he.

Vanille smiled as the key slid into the hole and turned easily. For the first time things were beginning to look up. She might actually be free soon. Even better, she might stand a chance of bringing Fang with her. She ended up tugging again at the drawer, rust making the metal resistant to her pulling it open. But with a painful amount of screeching it did finally open. She stopped, listening to the ever-pacing boy upstairs. Had the sound drawn his attention? She froze as the footsteps stopped, but after a moment's hesitation started up again. The boy started saying some things, but from this far away there was no way for her to make out the words. Right now she didn't want to know. Only wanted to see what was in the last drawer. Just like the other two there was a lot of paperwork, junk that was essentially useless to her unless she wanted to start a fire. _Great another dead end._ She thought as she looked through them, not even bothering to read any of them. It was only when she reached the back that she found something of interest.

She now held in her hand what looked like a very large golden egg. Now, she had heard of these rare treasures and only wished she had one of her own. They were laid by a rare beast that lived on the edges of the Yaschas Massif. Naturally the golden-feathered birds that produced these brilliant eggs feared mankind and hid as best they could from them, but mankind was a greedy race and perused them. Luckily for the beast their creator made them with an incredibly sharp beak and talons as well as a venom that could kill even the most powerful defender. Only the bravest defenders went after a prize like that. Very little was known about these eggs, thanks to how hard it was to find it, only that they were fragile and could take decades to hatch. Carefully Vanille placed it beside the lamp stand. The two were almost the exact same shade to the point where she almost thought they were made of the same material. But that was silly, a wild beast couldn't lay a lamp stand.

"Ok then, back to where I was," She looked around again, this time knowing she had seen all there was to see. There wasn't some other cabinet she hadn't noticed or some secret passageway she hadn't seen. The only thing in the room she hadn't looked at was whatever was under the red sheet in the cage. That she didn't even want to go near. She had enough enemies for the time being. Still, it was strange how whatever was in there hadn't moved since she woke up though.

"Stop it," she commanded herself, "See, now you've gone and gotten yourself distracted again. You still need a light. Thing is the only reason I can see where I am now is because of this flickering one up here." She reached up her highest. Her fingertips barely brushed around the plastic case that protected the light bulbs above her. "Hmm, well I know this area well enough. I _could_ just borrow them to use downstairs. After all, the handy man did give me this weird looking screwdriver. Might as well put it to good use."

She reached again to find the screws that held the plastic covering into place. She had found the first one, but had to pull her hand away. The light had been on so long the casing was hot and stung her hand where she touched it. What made it even more fun was the wires that went to the lights were still live. One touch with the metal tool and she could be dead before her hunter had the chance to do away with her. If she was going to get in there she'd just have to turn the lights off and wait for it to cool off.

Getting to the lights was a short walk of only a few steps. Turning them off was a different matter. The place terrified her enough as it was. Adding darkness to it might not be the best thing. She told herself to count to five, then she'd turn it off. But when she reached five her hand hovered above the switch, almost frozen. She then agreed to shut off the lights after counting to ten. The results were the same. Finally she just closed her eyes tight and pressed the button. When her eyes opened she found herself surprised that she actually could see fairly well, as if the room had managed to light itself somehow. How, she couldn't find. Mind you, it was still dark and infinitely creepier than it had been with the light on, but she could still get around fairly well.

In the room below Fang gave out a strangely satisfied moan, as if the light being off had calmed her. "Her eyes must have adjusted to the darkness down there," She whispered her conclusion, as unconvincing as it sounded. "The light from up here was probably hurting her, that's all."

With the light off she paced the outside edges of the wall as she waited for the light to cool. She figured a good walk around her prison might help her get used to this new darkness. Her hand trailed against the cold stone of the wall, her fingertips hating her for it. The mud that had stuck to her hand when she fell downstairs was starting to dry and chip off of her tender skin. It didn't hurt really, it was just a little annoying. She stopped when she had reached the wall behind the desk. The pictures that hung there, they had transformed in the night.

The first image, the one with the two kin, brother and sister as she had guessed, had not changed much. It only looked like some children had gotten a hold of it. Some horns and a curly mustache had been drawn on the boy and a small oval over the girl's head. What it could mean she wasn't entirely sure. It was probably some joke the people on Cocoon knew about.

The second, before, had just been a simple farmer standing with a pitchfork. His eyes were narrowed to keep out the blinding sun and he bore only a thin smile in his stubble coated chin. But now, now that the light had disappeared, what stood before her was no longer a normal man, but a fiendish monster. His eyes now shone a deep blue and his skin had faded to grey. His mouth opened wide now to reveal a long row of sharp, pointed teeth. All of them like the inside of a carnivore's mouth. The pitchfork was apparently too simple of a weapon for a monster like this to hold. That was replaced by an axe, much like the one Vanille had left downstairs. The cold, grey steel reflected some kind of eerie moonlight and the sharpened end of the blade was dyed in a deep crimson shade. On the top of the handle a skull had been placed, the handle coming up through the eye of it.

This was the face of a man she knew. This was the face of her hunter.

Vanille took a few steps back, the sound of the man's laughter ringing in her mind again. It was all too easy to imagine a voice so maniacal and terrifying coming out of a body so horrific as that one. It was all too easy to picture that axe being swung at her, blood dripping off of it like a lot of the other things in this room. And as much as she tried to fight it, an even worse scene continued to rape her mind: the thought of those teeth ripping into her flesh, bringing forth fresh blood. Every drop he freed would only drive him even deeper into madness, consuming him with a burning hunger she could never understand, and he would drive his teeth into her again and the cycle would continue. She would cry out in agonizing pain, tears streaming down her face, and her hands would sting from trying to claw herself away from him any way she could. But nothing could free her. The monster threw down his axe and gripped her arms with amazing strength, squeezing a whimper of pain from her. She couldn't stop herself from looking up at those maddened blue eyes, the way they bore into her, as if seeing more of her than what was actually there. She would try to squirm, to do anything to escape, but he would only hold her tighter, laughing at her pain. The strange light of the room reflected off his dismal fangs as they ripped off another piece of her flesh near her shoulder.

It was only the sound of a scream that brought her out of that painful vision. It was only after the voice had finished echoing off the walls that she had realized the voice was her own. Without even realizing it she had dropped to her knees as the vision took hold of her. She shook her head and forced herself to look away. She and Fang would be out of there before he could come back, before the vision could become a prophecy. She just had to keep working at it. She was closer now than she was before, even if she didn't know how much time she had left or how far to go. But she had to do it, somehow.

Another moan from downstairs reminded her of her friend who was waiting. "Sorry Fang," She called as she pushed herself to stand. Her legs were shaking more now than when she had first awoken, weak and sore. She forced herself to stand for a moment at the desk, leaning on it to steady her, before she continued the rest of the way to the stairs. "Just, uh, got a little scared, that's all. I got a light though. I'll get it down there and then I can help you better."

She hesitated again when she reached the doorway. Down there was nothing but dark. How could she be sure that somewhere in those shadows that demonic face from the picture wasn't hiding, waiting for her to come closer. She only managed to take another step forward by telling herself that if he had been down there he would have attacked her the moment the door was open. She would just have to trust the logic of that and keep moving.

She found the switch for the lights by the wall easily and followed the metal casing that held the wiring in place with her fingers. The metal tube snaked a little ways upward before turning to the side, leading her away from the door. "This thing doesn't end does it," She muttered a little bit, grumbling a bit as she stepped through another small pile of mud. Fang groaned a bit louder than before. "Alright, alright, I've almost got it. No need to rush me," She forced herself to smile as she felt the place where the lightbulb would be. "There it is," She said out loud, mainly to make sure her friend knew what was happening. "I'll just get this light turned on and we'll see if there's a way out through this room."

But the second the bulb was screwed into place and brightness filled the chamber the room was filled with a terrible roar. The thick sludge that coated the floor pulled itself together to form the rough shape of a man, a darkness loving beast she had only heard of in stories and seen described in the journal: A Mud Vile. The stories she had heard about the Mud Vile talked about how incredibly hostile it was, about how anyone it saw was basically nothing but an enemy that it must destroy at all costs. That and it absolutely hated light of any kind. And Vanille was bright enough to wake it up.

The Mud Vile stood higher than her by several feet when it had pushed itself to full height. Its eyes were little more than shallow pits in its forehead and as far as she could tell it had no nose. Its mouth was lined with sharp teeth and hung open as if it had no lower jaw to hold it closed. His skin was composed of noting but rank soil and mud, the very thing she had fallen in when she had come in, and dripped from its body only to be drawn back to it. When the Mud Vile had assembled its body completely it turned its long head towards her, identifying its enemy. Vanille couldn't even manage to cry out, much less run, as he stretched out a hand and took a step towards her. But even if she wanted to there was no chance at escape. The Mud Vile stood between her and the stairs to the upper level thanks to her trip around the room in search of the light. Panic struck through her and she backed away as much as she could, but had to stop as her back pressed against the deep brown stone that was the walls here. She kept pressing herself against it, as if doing that would make her fall through the wall to safety on the other side, but she knew it was hopeless. She had nowhere to run, no magic she could control, and no weapon to fight with. It wouldn't be the terrible, diseased farmer who hungered for the flesh of living l'cie who ended her. It would be this monsterous Mud Vile who hated her for disturbing its slumber.

With a growl of hatred it came closer, knowing it was victorious before it had taken its first step.

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(A/N) Again, longer than I expected, but hey I'm cool with it. You want to know the one best things about this game? Music. Music and plots are a big thing for me. Obviously the plot's good otherwise I wouldn't be writing and you wouldn't be reading and reviewing this. But the music on this thing just about gets me every time. See, I play the game every time I'm writing to make sure I get it right so I've played this game a dozen and a half times over again. I know every corner and color in this thing. But I turn off the light switch, the music goes off, and I'm _still_ frozen staring at the screen like something different is going to happen or something. So kudos for music choice. It's actual very simple background music and half of you reading this are probably thinking I'm nuts, but it makes all the difference to me.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as before . . . (what? You weren't thinking we'd find her _that_ easy were you?)

. . . ok, it's past two in the morning here (and yes, apparently you needed to know that) time for me to pass out and sleep till noon . . . I wish . . .


	5. Chapter 5: Encounter X2?

(A/N) I'm switching back and forth between this and Code Lyoko modes. I _really_ want to get this done. Frankly I think it'd be nice to finish a story for once. I intend to go back to everything, I just need some support in getting me in the mood. So like always, read, review, and play the game.

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Chapter 5

Encounter (X2?)

The mud vile took its first step towards her and she pressed harder against the wall. It did not lunge for her, did not chase her. Only took one agonizingly slow step after another towards her. It didn't see the need to rush, he knew he had won. There was no way for her to escape.

Her gaze looked past the monster to where the stairway to the upper level of the basement lay. If she could get around the Mud Vile she could reach it. But then what? He would just follow her up there and kill her when she was blocked by the iron door that kept her from leaving in the first place. She couldn't even close and lock the door between the two levels since she had chopped it in half instead of simply opening it. What good that did her. But as she looked on to what she wished could hold freedom she found something that could.

_The axe_. The sinister blade was leaning against the wall close to the door where she had left it. If she could get to the door maybe she could use it to defend herself somehow. Maybe even by her holding it the monster would be afraid of her and just leave her alone, go back to being a mud puddle on the floor. But first she would have to get to it.

She looked to study the floorplan of the room. It was simple, only a square of a room, the walls made of deep brown shaded, earthen bricks. On one side of the room was a couple of barrels, only as high as her waste. If she tried going behind or on them to get away the monster would reach her for sure. Above them was a vent, just like the one on the upper level, but not as tall and longer. The vent was covered with a metal grate. She didn't see herself being able to pull it off before the creature reached her.

The Mud Vile took another step towards her.

On the other side of the room was this strange rectangular box, something the people from cocoon called a refrigerator. Apparently this metallic box could keep food from going bad without salting it. Vanille didn't believe it, but that didn't matter right now. The pale white of it was stained red, this time she wanted to believe it was because of some kind of food that was inside was somehow leaking out (if that was even possible) rather than letting herself believe it was the remains of the countless L'cie who dueled this beast before. Perhaps that was why the door was jammed shut: The hunter was tired of loosing his meal to the Mud Vile.

The Mud Vile took another step towards her and she edged towards the refrigerators, her back still flat against the shockingly cold stone of the wall.

Vanille could compare the height of the monster to the refrigerator now. It was risky, but if she climbed on top perhaps she would be high enough that he could not reach her. She jumped as high as she could to try to grip the side of it. This box was amazingly large, probably big even for normal refrigerators. Her fingertips could grip the edges, but she fought to try to pull herself up. The box leaned towards her, threatening to fall and crush her under it and she let go. Something metallic jingled at her feet but she ignored it, her every thought focused on escape.

She then tried something she had seen Fang use once to get somewhere. The refrigerator was close to the wall, but not close enough that she couldn't maneuver. She leapt at the wall, attempting to land one foot about waist height then push off, twisting to face the refrigerator. Her foot hit the wall, then promptly slipped straight down before she had time to turn. She could has sworn the Mud Vile had started laughing at her.

She made the mistake of looking back to see how far back he was and instantly regretted it. He had closed every step between them save for the last few. He was close enough to her now that if she had reached out to him she could have touched the grimy hand that was stretched for her still. Panic settled in her heart and desperation lent her strength as she leapt at the wall as second time. The move landed and she pushed off the wall successfully, but even with it's help she couldn't clear the height of the fridge. Only her head and shoulders had managed to get above it. It wasn't much but it kept her from falling.

Her legs scrambled against the wall of the refrigerator as she tried to push herself up, only wishing she were stronger. There was only about a foot and a half of space between the top of the fridge and the ceiling. Not enough room for her to lift herself even to where her arms were straight up, her palms flat against the surface. Instead to reached out in front in an attempt to grip the other edge and maybe drag herself forward, but she couldn't quite reach the other side. Her fingertips brushed against something cold and metal and she strained herself to see what it was. A dark grey key.

Just as she tried to reach for it cold lanced through her calf as the Mud Vile grasped it. For a beast made of as much liquid as solid his grip was incredibly tight. Something about his touch burned through her in a way it never had before, as if being fully awake had triggered something in her nervous to cause his skin to secrete some kind of acid. The touch of it seared her body with pain. With a roar of triumph it ripped her away from the refrigerator and threw her into the barrels on the opposite side of the room. Her body crumpled on impact, the pain too great. The Mud Vile started to pace towards her again.

Vanille looked down at her leg. The skin where he had touched her still stung incredibly and was now a vibrant shade of red as well as beginning to swell. Only a few seconds of contact had caused that much damage.

The Mud Vile growled, as if daring her to move this time. His hand no longer stretched towards her, but was locked in a position close to his body, his dripping hand formed into a tight fist. He wasn't going to play with his food this time. But then he shouldn't have played with her in the first place. By throwing her here she was closer to the axe.

Vanille scrambled towards the weapon, her leg screaming in more pain than she had ever been in throughout her entire life. The Mud Vile caught her action and changed his direction in an attempt to stop her, but just as he reached her the second time she had reached the handle and swung it blindly towards him. Her eyes were shut tight as she felt wooden handle leave her hands. If she was going to kill the monster she didn't want to see it. There was a sickening sound of his earthen flesh being severed as well as a roar of pain. But that was all.

When Vanille turned she was almost surprised to see the Mud Vile still in it's man-like shape. It's body sprawled out on the floor. The axe had landed deep in the pocket of flesh just between the neck and collar bone. Blood pooled around the blade and stained the soil around the injury. She couldn't think of a better place for her to hit if she had aimed for his heart. The monster lay still.

Now she stopped, looking at the beast that had tried to take her life, she had ended up taking his. She didn't like killing, never had. She had never hunted, never killed during her travels with Fang. If they needed meat Fang was the one to come back with it for she would strike the killing blow far away where Vanille couldn't watch it take place. But now, now that innocence was gone, stained with the same crimson that dripped to the ground. And even though it had tried to kill her she couldn't help but bow her head for a moment and whisper "I'm sorry," to the monster. After all, it was probably a prisoner in this basement just like her. Perhaps they could have worked together towards freedom.

Vanille forced herself to her feet. Her leg throbbed in pain, but it was not something she could not handle. She stepped around the fallen beast, refusing to look at it as she searched through the room, looking for something useful. The barrels had proved useless, filled only with water. The refrigerators proved the same holding nothing in them but plastic shelving and some bread that had gone bad so long ago it was hardly recognizable and the only thing it gave was a never-ending wave of stench. Next to the refrigerator she found what had made the tinkling sound when she was fleeing from the Mud Vile. It was another ninety-degree angle piece of metal almost exactly like the one she had found earlier. Perhaps the two were a matching set to something.

Lastly she stood as high as she reached for the top of the refrigerator and took the one item in the room she knew about: The key. She examined it thoroughly running it over and over again in her hand and training her fingers along its cool length. Slowly she limped back up the stairs, promising to never set foot back there again. Up here the light was still dim and the painting still as demonic as she had left it. She looked away from it fearing the vision it had left her with and praying that another one didn't come. On the table where she had first gotten the axe a new swarm of vampire flies had emerged. Beyond the steel door the world was eerily silent. She turned and faced the thing she knew this new key unlocked only because it was the only thing still locked: The cage.

Inside the beast under the red blanket lay as perfectly still as the moment she had woken up. Vanille wasn't exactly up for another fight with a monster, especially since her only weapon aside from uncontrolled black magic was still buried in the neck of the Mud Vile. But then again, the hunter had locked this one up, where as the Mud Vile he had just put behind a closed door. What if this monster was dangerous to _him_ and they could work together to escape this hell.

With that thought burning through her she fit the key into the padlock to pull it off and swung the door open on its squeaky hinges. The beast slumped towards the open hole, falling as if asleep. Vanille pulled the blanket off of the figure, her hands trembling as she did, then let out a cry made of fear, shock, pain, and worry as she saw it.

The caged monster was Fang.

Vanille shook the older girl who had always taken care of her, calling her and pleading for her to wake. But nothing happened. Her eyes didn't open, or even flinch back and forth as if dreaming. She put a hand to her forehead and was shocked to find it cold. She watched for any sign of movement from her, but nothing came. Not even a shallow rise and fall of her chest. Finally, as much as she feared the result Vanille put two fingers to Fang's wrist. A painful tear fell as she felt nothing where there should have been, at the least, a very faint pulse.

Fang truly was dead.

* * *

(A/N) a lot shorter than the last few chapters but hey, Fang's back. How bout that? So like I said before, review and play the game.


	6. Chapter 6: A find before the fone

(A/N) OK, so I'll be honest, the reviews on the last chapter kinda just made me sad. I mean Fang just _died _and no one had anything to say for it . . . Not much encouragement for silly me with the short attention span. Here's basically how this works when no one reviews. Weeks go by and I don't even bother thinking about the thing. (but I'm willing to bet you've already noticed). But today's a lucky time, and by luck I mean _serious_ luck. Basically I get home at like 10 or so, hungry and bored. So I ate, read a little, let my little Wizard 101 guy run around for a while. Then I got bored with that. Spent a few hours on i-am-bored and what do you know, I got bored with that too. So I do what any self respecting internet junkie would do at 1 in the morning: Watch some more you tube videos. Most of them I've already seen. But then I end up stumbling over the FFXIII-2 trailer (_WHY doesn't anyone TELL me about these things?_) and *poof* back in Final fantasy mode . . . (and just for the record, no. No I really don't know why I'm telling you this.) So what the heck. It's 1:30 in the morning and for whatever reason I'm not anywhere near tired. So let's write some fanfiction shall we?

Like always, read, enjoy, review, tell your friends, have them read, enjoy, review, tell your friends, have them read, enjoy, review, tell your friends, have them read, enjoy, review, tell your friends, have them read, enjoy, review, tell your friends, have them read, enjoy, review, tell your friends, have them read, enjoy, review, tell your friends and I think by now you get the trend. Oh, and there's that little bit about playing the game it's based off of. Monster Basement's the name in case you forgot. It'll pop up if you do a search for it on google I promise.

Oh, and I did forget to mention (although it is quite possible that someone might have noticed) there are a few references to some of Patrick Majewski's other games. Particularly a few vague foreshadows of the Monster Basement sequel (conveniently[spelling!] named Monster Basement 2), but I'm not quite going to tell what those are in case I decide to write it. Secondly there are a few references to Trapped, The first game of the McNeely trilogy. There's not many of them, and they're small, like the name of chapter 1, but I figured I'd mention them just in case.

Now, back to the story.

* * *

Chapter 6:

A find before the fone

Vanille looked down in horror at her friend. There was no possible way that this could be right. Fang _couldn't _die here. Couldn't die now. Hell, she wasn't supposed to die at all. Vanille refused to give up. She shook her, called her name. Begged and pleaded endlessly. Her voice grew louder as she tried to reach her and for an instant she feared that her calls would anger the boy and his father upstairs. But this time she didn't care.

She lifted her friend by her shoulders, embracing her as tears continued to flow. She was so still, so different than before even though she was exactly the same Fang that had protected her before. Somehow she had managed to look just as strong as she always had lived. But her appearances couldn't mask the scent that she had noticed on only one kind of person in the world: the dead. Fang was gone, now she knew for certain. She had died protecting Vanille from the diseased monster that held her captive. If only she had done something when he had first attacked them. She knew Fang had told her to run, but she could have fought. Could have been useful. But instead she ran like a coward, ran back home where she wasn't even welcome anymore. But if she was going to run away she should have at least kept running. Running away always seemed to solve her problems or, at least, postponed them. But she had ruined that idea by coming back. Fleeing from a fight you can't win does little good if you join it later. Fang had fought to protect her a second time then, that was when he killed her.

A painful silence fell over her as she kept her hand over Fang's. The cold of her hands didn't bother her, the entire basement was cold and hard, like the heart of their captor. The only sound that could be heard was the slow, irregular rhythm of water dripping through the sewers below.

"I'm so sorry," She managed to force through her lips at last, "I was going to protect you, Fang. I messed up, again. You shouldn't have had to go like this. No one should. I . . . I hope you still managed to find your salvation. I'm not sure if I can find my own without you here."

Again, silence came, but this time it was short lived. Vanille shifted her weight without changing the position she knelt in, her knees on the ground, legs together. The soft sound of paper ruffling caught her attention and she looked down at the limp body of her friend.

There, in her hand, was a small piece of paper. On it was the image of a device made of many parts. It's base was a golden lamp stand. From it's sides the little electrical tubes were connected and he bent angles caused them to reach towards the dark heavens. Resting between the two tubes was a golden egg. It seemed she was wrong about the golden egg she thought she could sell when she returned home. But then, she was only half right about the lamp stand. It did still hold things up, just not candles. In front of it all was a small fish figurine. The two tail pieces of the fish was level with the base of the lamp stand and the point of it touched the center of the egg. From the fish was an arrow that pointed to the words 'call "SALVATION" ' with a series of numbers following. Familiar with the words Vanille dug into her pouch and withdrew the paper she had gathered earlier. It too said 'call salvation' on it, only it lacked the numbers on Fang's paper. '725-828-466' The moment her eyes ran over the numbers she scrambled to the phone.

She dialed the numbers frantically, as though the person on the other line would actually be able to help her in some way. But she knew it wouldn't happen. Her fear, which had become almost routine at this point, was answered as the voice on the other ended answered in a voice so soft and so faint it could have belonged to a ghost "Salvation is here" it said. And just like before there was silence.

Nervous Vanille began to pace, studying the drawings she held in her hand. The pieces she collected, the lamp stand, the egg, the two electrical tubes. They all fit together to make this device. But she was sure it was meant to _go_ somewhere, not just be assembled.

She went to the bag where she stored her pile of junk and took out the Lamp stand. This was the base to this strange device and if there was something in this room that the mechanism fit into she'd find it through the bottom of this thing. She ran her hand over the surface of the long desk, then the floor, looking for an indentation.

Just before she gave up the search there and move to the bookcase there was another knock on the door outside her prison, where the boy had become strangely silent. Somehow that in itself terrified her. At least when he was moving she could keep track of him. The father answered the door.

"Bettin' we got ourselves a delivery don't we's?" There was no answer, but the shuffle of papers did just the job, " 's 'bout time if yeh ask me." He grumbled then in another minute the father pushed the envelope into the mail slot of the basement. When she opened the envelope she found the only missing piece to her mystery contraption: The fish.

Eagar to get the pieces assembled she sat and forced them together. It took so much jamming and shoving of the pieces, particularly the tubes were being stubborn. But finally it was put together, but like she assumed, nothing happened. It needed to be placed somewhere.

Again she began running her hands along the last surface she could reach. The bookcase. She would have tried the table where the axe had been, but the vampire flies had returned. There was just so many of them, and this time she was out of poison water she could use. She would just have to work around them for-

Her thoughts about insects stopped as she found an indentation on the third shelf of the bookcase. Now that she found it she remembered seeing it before on her initial tour of the prison, but she had discarded the information as useless. Now it seemed to be the key to her survival. The largest dent, a perfect circle, fit the lamp stand perfectly. When the four golden pieces were fit together perfectly the devise sparked to life. Energy flowed over the egg between the tubes, sparks were tossed from the surface. And above it all a bright glow of gold seemed to shine from within. It was a strange sight, yet beautiful. When the electricity died down Vanille could not resist reaching out and touching it ever so gently . . .

She jumped back the second she did, angry with herself for doing it in the first place. The second her flesh touched the comfortingly warm surface of the 'egg' it opened to reveal a green, pupil-less eye. It did not move, only looked at her blankly. This was no life being, it could not know where or who she was or follow her as she walked and it was foolish to think otherwise. Still, Vanille continued to feel that it would somehow do just that. Another touch, this one more hesitant than the first, and the eye closed.

Continuing to follow the diagram Fang had provided she added the fish figure, the tail end on the base and the point at the head. When she did the eye opened once more and she noticed that not only did the point of the fish rest in the center of the egg but in the center of the iris of the eye as well. Something was meant to be shown by the points of the egg, iris, and fish lining up. Turning to face the opposite wall she understood

The light from the eye cast on the wall in an exact square between the two portraits, overlapping them in an attempt to be perfectly centered. The shadow of the fish's point rested perfectly between the two portraits, as if it were an arrow pointing. Something had to be there, where the point was, she was sure of it.

Vanille hurried around the table, her eyes staying away from the image of the dark farmer. Even with the eye's golden light to wash over him he was still a creature of evil. But as long as she didn't look at his hard eyes, or menacing teeth she didn't have to fear another terrible vision.

She ran her hands over the stone of the wall. It felt just as cool as the rest of the room. But when she put her ear to it and tapped against it with her knuckles there was no mistaking the sound she heard. This section of the wall was hollow. Gathering all her strength together she clasped her hands together and beat against the wall. It stung her already sore hands, but even that blow had dented what she now knew was little more than weak wood, covered in an extremely thin layer of stone to give it the appearance of a normal wall. This she could tear down easily.

When at last the wall fell she found, not a second secret passage that she could use to escape, but a little storage space. The tiny square that had been cut into the wall wouldn't even be able to fit her if she curled up in the tightest ball she could. Inside was a heart, one that had once given life to another being. Whether it was human or not she could not tell just yet. Nor did she want to.

Beside the heart was a bottle of decent size filled to the brim with another red liquid, This she did not recognize, but some of the herbs she smelled from it she did remember from her days as the apprentice healer of Oerba. The strongest scent of all was Phoenix Down paired with Echo. As she tried to identify more the phone began to ring.

Only slightly annoyed that it had broken her concentration in identifying the potion and determining it's usefulness she knew that if it was useful she couldn't afford to pass it up. Putting the heart down and leaving the potion on the table she picked up the phone, almost scared of what to say. No one she had heard on the other end of this line had sounded friendly to her so far. And when she heard it she almost wished she had just sat there with her potion.

She was greeted with the laugh of her hunter. Terror gripped her heart and her breath stopped. A crash sounded at the metal door at the top of the stairs. Her hunter's laughter could be heard from there just as loudly as down here. It echoed almost endlessly off the walls and even more so in her mind. The door took a second beating as the voice from the phone came again.

"Time's up," He said, his voice still carrying the same laughter, "And I'm coming to get you."

* * *

(A/N) so . . . yeah. He came back. So if anyone wants to read the ending anytime before next Christmas I'm thinking reviews would be pretty nice *hint* It's not so much that I _need _people to like my stuff. But if you like my stuff then it makes me like my stuff more and I get into it and it keeps my modes from changing. So basically the progress of this is based on what you all tell me. Thanks for reading this far for all that have. It does really mean a lot to me. I wish I could give you all things to show how happy I am that people actually do read this, but I kinda cant.

Ok, so it is officially 3:36 am. I think I'm actually tired now . . .


	7. Chapter 7: It comes

(A/N) So I'm in a good mood tonight. Lets finish this shall we?

* * *

Chapter 7

It comes

Vanille dropped the phone, not even bothering to hang up. It made no difference to the monster so it really shouldn't to her. At the top of the stairs there was a terrible bang, then another. Her hunter, he was trying to break his way through the door, as if even he didn't have a simple handle to open it. But the door would not hold him off for long. Even from where Vanille stood she could already see deep dents forming in the surface and the sides bending in. No normal human could have strength like this, but then again, his disease kept him from being normal.

Frantic she searched around the room for a weapon of some kind. She had already searched through the room time and time again. There was nothing she could find. Not even a small knife. It seemed her only hope of putting up a fight was left in the body of the Mud Vile. She would simply have to go down and-

_OW!_

A sharp pain stabbed through her arm, and then another. When she looked down she expected to see something terrible, but found only a nuisance. Vampire flies. They had left the blood soaked table and came after the fresher scent of the heart she now held. Vanille swatted them away for a few heartbeats, but they always returned. She was wasting time on them when she should be focusing.

Another powerful dent formed in the door.

In a snap decision Vanille went towards the door, the steps she took quick and fearful, and drove the curved point of one of the hanging meat hooks through the heart's center. More blood flowed through the puncture and more flies were drawn to it. Finally they left Vanille alone and she turned her back on them to think. She forced herself to walk slowly, calmly, to pace herself and be ready for the worst. That was her mistake.

She should have ran. She should have ran and never looked back.

A mighty crash echoed through the prison of a basement and out of reflex Vanille twisted to see it. The door had not only opened, but was completely blown from the hinges and clattered loudly to the floor. Blindingly bright light streamed through the doorway making her captor nothing more than a silhouette against it. She saw only how he was tall, his legs thin, but his shoulders broad. She could not tell anymore about him because the coat he wore was long and hid most of his size. He wore a hat who's wide rim cut the light around him. Somehow, even though the rest of him was nothing more than a dark shadow, his eyes glowed a sickly shade of red. He stood in the doorway howling his laughter as he saw the fear in Vanille's eyes. "Did you miss me little girl?" He laughed as he picked up the double bladed axe that he had put down while he beat the door, and came towards her.

But luck had slowed him down. He hadn't taken two steps down the small stairway before he was shouting all sorts of unrepeatable curses. The vampire flies that had followed the heart's scent weren't about to let him pass freely. And so as he swatted and swung his axe at their tiny little bodies Vanille was given through some form of grace a moment to think.

Without even doing so she took a sip from the potion she held. Instantly her mouth exploded with flavors of all kinds. She could taste clearly the soft sweetness of Phoenix down, countered violently by the harsh bitterness of Echo, the two herbs she had already identified. A few dozen more tastes danced across her tongue, dragon bone, Unicorn's mane, and countless herbs that created a sort of strange taste that begged for her to take another. But she refused. Already she felt great strength flowing through her weak and weary body. Her senses became sharper and her mind became clearer. She felt power forming in her body's center, great magic waiting to be released, begging to be freed. This was a potion she could use, but it wouldn't be on herself.

She knelt beside Fang, following instinct and desperation rather than rational thought, and dripped a small portion of the red liquid into her mouth. At first she thought nothing was happening, that this random thought that any intelligent being would know had no chance of success, was useless. But just as the hunter passed through the wall of carnivorous insects, she saw it.

Fang's eyes had opened.

For a moment her blue eyes flicked back and forth across the room, confusion masking any other emotion. But when she saw the hunter, his axe raised and ready to strike, anger and hatred replaced it. She stood and faced her enemy, though anyone else should be too weak to stand. That was the work of the potion and nothing else.

"Vanille stay behind me." She told her and Vanille listened. She wanted her to tell her to do something else, to be useful in some way. But she had disobeyed Fang last time and returned to the fight. This time she would stay out of the way.

Anger filled the monster's red eyes as he saw his first 'meal' alive and well. He charged with a roar. Fang charged as well. The shaft of his axe clashed against her forearm in the way swords do during duals. Fang hissed in pain though it should have been more. The monster spit, cursing some insult, but the Oerbian warrior did not retaliate in words. Instead she used her free hand to pry the weapon from his hands and drive it into his chest.

The monster gave a great roar of pain and hate, but then fell still as blood began to pool in the floor around him. The monster was defeated. Thanks to Fang of course. Vanille watched as the dark haired woman stood, she didn't even look shaken at the fact that she had just taken a life. Vanille had not been so strong before after defeating the mud vile.

Fang turned to face her friend. Her features were soft and gentle now and she stretched out her arms which Vanille ran to. The two spend a moment just standing there, content simply that the other was alive and with them still. But the images of everything the younger of the two had just experienced tore through her mind, tearing it as though it had claws. Tears overflowed her eyes and her shoulders shook with sobs. Fang's embrace tightened and shushed her, as though she were just a young child afraid of little demons under the bed. But she found it comforting all the same and let her continue. Niether would know how long they stayed that way. Before finally they both broke away.

"You gonna be alright?" Fang asked, her eyes knowing only concern. Vanille nodded, but she was hesitant to do so, a movement that had not escaped her noticing, "It's going to be ok, Vanille. You know that."

"I know, it's just-"

"I know," Fang held her again, tighter this time than before. "You weren't ready for something like this. No one could have expected you to be through it easily. But you did. Now," She let go, "What do you say to going home? Maybe finishing our focus?"

Vanille couldn't help but smile, "I'd like that very much." She answered and took a few steps towards the now opened steel door. She was finally going to see what was on the other side! "Come on, then. Let's go." Anticipation began to run its course through her as she felt the truth settle over her. She was _free_! Fang grabbed her hand as she ran towards the door and dragged her back before she could get far.

"Now where do you think you're going?"

"Home. Like you said."

"Not up there you're not."

"But you said-"

"Look. This guy doesn't act alone." Fang's voice was stern, her eyes serious. "He has a family. A brother, maybe more."

"The boy." Vanille looked up. She had heard him pacing the room above almost the entire time she had been down here. Why hadn't he come down after he heard the monster's death?

"Exactly. Who's to say he's not infected too?"

"But why? If he knew he was sick why get his kin sick too?"

"Who knows. The illness, they say it drives you mad. Not only in the need to taste blood, but also in your head too. Maybe it was just insanity that did it. But that way will only send you up there with them. It won't get us back to Oerba."

"Then how-"

"There's a portal between this house and Gran Pulse."

"Right. I read about it in a journal I found," She looked around for the green book wondering if she had moved it in her frantic searches for more clues.

"Yeah, they're rare, but they do exist. The portal we're looking for us underneath us."

"no, there's nothing in the floor below. Just a mud vile." When the older l'cie heard the name of the beast she tensed, her eyes flicked to the axe that still lay in the monster's chest as if wondering how fast she could get to it. "Don't worry about it. I . . . I already . . . killed it." Her voice trailed at the end as she felt a few more tears forming. She still could not accept what she had done.

"That's good then." Fang began to relax then, "But that's not where I meant."

"There's nothing else here, believe me."

"I do. But did you ever think to look down?" She pointed to a small metal oval dome that stuck out from the floor. Sure Vanille had noticed it, but it didn't do anything and didn't open. She didn't think she needed it. "That will lead to the sewers under this house. That is where we will find the portal that can take us home."

"But how can we open it? I've already tried. There's no way."

"We'll need to get these bolts off of it," She tried to turn one, but it didn't budge, "so we'll need a wrench to get rid of these. Also, there's a keyhole on here. So I'm betting we'll need a key too."

"How are we supposed to find a key?"

"I don't know." Fang shrugged, "If I had to guess I'd say someone in this house has it, but I can't say-"

"You mean we'd have to take it from them?"

"Yeah, we would. It's the only way we could-"

"No . . . " Already she was dreading the thought of facing another one of those monsters, let alone his entire family. She couldn't do it. There was no way. She could see all to easily not only the vision she saw before but another worse than the first. A whole group of sharp toothed, glowing eyed demons threw themselves at her, hissing and snarling and growling and howling. She screamed as they clawed at her, but it only pleased them and the vicious cycle continued. Somewhere through the noise she could hear Fang's voice calling to her, trying to reach her, but it could not stop the beasts.

Vanille had collapsed on her knees clutching the sides of her head as the pain of the living nightmare coursed through it. She screamed louder and louder as the ache grew unbearable. Fang was there trying in every way she could think of to bring her back to reality, but she knew nothing of this kind of pain. She was trained to deal in sword and spear, not the mind. But she feared she would have to use her craft soon for surely her cries would draw in the monsters who lived here.

Moment after moment passed. Her body was torn and blood pooled around so many gashes and rips in her flesh. Pieces of her body were missing in places they didn't bother to scratch, but bite as hard as possible. Streams of tears blended with rivers of scarlet as darkness began to close. Fang was shouting, her voice sounding muffled in her mind, trying to keep her awake and with her. But it was no use.

The pain ended when the darkness consumed her completely.

* * *

(A/N) ok so truthfully . . . in the game you're actually supposed to put the blanket you find in the cage over the table so the flies would be attracted to the heart you put on the hook. But I honestly couldn't think of a reason Vanille would _want_ the flies to not be at the table at this point since she already got what she wanted for it so thats how I edited that bit. I admit, there are a few things I've edited here and there only because there's no way I could think of that Vanille could have known them. Like the 'Call Salvation' thing. She wouldn't have known it was a phone number. Heck, I couldn't figure it out on my own. So I had Fang tell her. If you do play the game these little edits are kind of noticeable (like the player never has visions and the mud vile doesn't make noise until the light turns on and the whole last chapter in the journal that tells how the hunter got a hold of fang and vanille in the first place never existed) but I did feel like the change helped move the story.

And if you're wondering why the ending is the way it is that's because Monster Basement was created with a sequel where you do have to go find the wrench and the key. Now, in Monster Basement itself it doesn't say any of that. When you go about playing the second game you just kind of know what you need and your friend isn't there and you don't know where he is. So by Fang telling her and having her pass out at the end I figured it'd be a nice sort of intro to the next one (if it ever comes to be *wink*)

So to wrap up, thanks for reading and reviewing and all. This was fun and it gets to be the first story out of all mine that I get to actually mark as 'complete' so yippie on that. Thanks for reading (again) the whole way through the story and play the original game if you liked it that much.


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